


Past Tense

by bluejorts



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Supernatural
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-09 08:07:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5532017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluejorts/pseuds/bluejorts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Claire messed up. She messed up immensely. Or rather, she would mess up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lesson Number One: Don't Jump Strangers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pastelbees](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pastelbees/gifts).



> Written for Angel, because she's incredible and it's Christmas. :*

Claire Novak had pretty much the worst luck of anyone she knew, bar her parents. And, well, her parents were kind of the route of her bad luck. They were both dead as doorknobs and her dad's body was being used by an overly kind angel who was way too concerned with her life than she would like. And the angel in question seemed to have left his mark on her so that she was pretty much a magnet for supernatural creatures, meaning that she had to move and move and move before something could latch on to her scent and she was sent to an early grave.

She was stalking down the street, shoulders hunched, shivering against the cold, and seriously she wished that she'd stolen a winter coat. She was staring at the ground, trying to seem unapproachable and genderless, not wanting to stand out at this time of night even in this suburban part of town. There were two or three people walking with the same distrust and tired shuffling as she, and for a moment she wondered what

Suddenly, a blood curdling shriek sounded from the house to her left. She lifted her head, startled, turning towards the noise. Someone in front of her had already taken their phone from their pocket and were presumably calling the police, slowly stepping further and further away from the house.

Claire watched the building; the curtains were drawn but the glow of a lamp shone through, until a second scream came and the light became unnatural. It seemed so bright, and yet she could stare at it without even beginning to squint. She looked back to where the other person had been, to be met with an empty spot and a figure running the fuck away. Well. She was debating following their lead when a third scream came from the house. Goddamn it.

She took the steps two at a time and tried the door handle. Locked. Fuck. She took a few steps back and looked around. Spare key, spare key, spare - Flower pot. She lifted the pot and grabbed the key from under it, freaking suburbs. She jammed the key into the lock and shouldered open the door just as another screech came from the door to her left. Barging into the room, she took one look at the situation, and leaped onto the person holding the ancient looking spell book.

That was her big mistake.

"What the - Get off me!" The person - presumably a girl - yelled. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Run." Claire ordered, turning to the middle aged woman the girl had been chanting at. The middle aged woman that was smirking. The middle aged woman that had just crossed her arms and cocked her hip out. And fuck.

That was not a traumatised victim. That was a fucking witch, wasn't it.

"Oh? But why would I do that?"

"Oh you son of a -"

"Hush now, dear. None of that language here." Claire felt her mouth forced shut, started to get up but was pulled back to the ground (and pressed more against the poor girl she'd tackled who she'd really have to apologise to later, if they made it out of this alive that was). "Now, now. What shall I do with you?" The witch tapped her forefinger against her chin and tilted her head towards them. The girl beneath Claire growled in frustration. "Hmm? What was that? What did you say?" The growling continued, and Claire realised that the girl was trying to speak, or rather curse, at the smirking witch. "Too late. Oh! I know what to do with you." She grinned.

Her eyes rolled back into her head and from her mouth poured a stream of words in a language Claire didn't even _want_ to understand, followed by a heavy stream of blue-black smoke that fell like a snake and slithered across the floor in the same fashion. The girls tried to wriggle away, but it was like there was a magnet holding them to the ground, making their efforts futile. The snake of smoke circled around them and met itself, it ran up in a straight line towards the witch, circled her feet, and came back down to blend with the beginning of its journey. Claire felt something pierce each and every one of her toes and found herself able to gasp and yell in pain, the girl beneath her doing the same thing. The pain spread upwards of her toes, growing like the roots of plants under her skin. Her entire body tensed and she buried her head in the girl's neck, tears pricking at her eyes.

The roots spread throughout her body, ending up at her head, if she'd been able to move she would be clawing at her hair, tearing chunks of it out to try and get to the pain beneath and rid herself of it. She was screaming, squeezing her eyes shut. The shrill screeching of her and the girl under her rang through her head and made her feel like she was going to explode. Insanely bright light pierced her eyelids, flashing and flashing and flashing. Fuck, no, she was epileptic. If she had a fit that would just be the icing on this shit cake.

Her stomach dropped and the flashing disappeared, the roots slowly removed themselves from her body, withdrawing and leaving a soothing coolness in their place that drew a relieved groan from her mouth. She tested her arms and found them freed of whatever had been stilling her. Scrambling up, she turned to where the witch had been, fists raised. The witch wasn't there. Nor was the rest of the house. She lowered her fists and looked around, panicked. They were in some kind of hanger, surrounded by old fashioned planes and cars of the same era. It was still dark, but the light of the moon was bright enough through the high windows spanning the length of the room that everything was highlighted in silver.

"Fuck." She stated.

"You don't say." The other girl growled. Claire turned towards her, sheepish, intent on apologising. Before she could say anything, there was a fist hitting her cheek and pain blooming in the side of her face and in her neck as her head was forced to the side. "I don't know who you are but I swear to God you are so lucky that all I'm doing is punching you right now."

"Sorry." Claire winced, cradling her cheek in one hand. Yeah, she deserved that. She completely deserved that.

"Yeah, yeah. You can repay me by figuring out where the fuck we are and giving me bus money so I can go finish that bitch" The girl grumbled. Claire took a moment to look her over. She was probably Claire's age, loosely curled dark hair and dark eyes, probably three inches shorter than Claire herself. There was a mole under one of her eyes, she wore a plaid shirt and dark jacket, there was a gun poking out of her jeans, and her boots were impressive and steel toed. The girl caught her looking and squinted at her distrustfully. Claire hastily looked away, searching out an exit.

"Stay safe, Howard." A distinctly female, distinctly _English_ voice reached them.

"Are you _kidding_ me?" The girl hissed, Grabbing Claire by the shoulder and dragging her over to push her up against a plane to their left. "You got us sent to fucking _England_?"

There were two pairs of footsteps heading in their direction, one set clacking like heels, the other heavier, sounding like smart shoes.

"We're surrounded by planes, maybe we could take one; fly home." Claire suggested.

"Oh my God, you're a complete idiot." The girl groaned quietly, fisting her hands in Claire's hoodie and banging her head against the plane gently. She accidentally hit too hard and the clang echoed through the hanger. The footsteps stopped.

"Now who's the idiot?" Claire muttered, blood running slightly cold.

"Dottie? Is that you?" The English voice called.

"Miss Carter, I'm not sure it's really a good idea to -" A male voice started, once again English.

"Shush, Jarvis. Dottie? Listen to me, the SSR are outside, if you come quietly now, you'll be safe." The heels clacked against the floor again, coming yet closer. The unmistakable sound of the safety of a gun clicking came next. The other girl's entire body tensed, and she pressed Claire closer to the plane, fists digging into Claire's clavicle. "Dottie. Come on. I'm not going to hurt you." The footsteps were right beside the plane now, and Claire held her breath. She turned her head, watching as a pistol appeared around the plane, the woman behind it coming next. Her hair was short, dark and curled, her lips were dark, and her gun turned with her head when she looked at them. "Oh." She stated, questioningly, brow furrowing, gun lowering fractionally. "Jarvis? Does Howard have any daughters?"

"Certainly not." The man bristled.

"Then I think these two have some explaining to do."

The other girl pulled away from Claire, arms raised, shoulders hunched. Claire mimicked her stance. The other set of footsteps came around the plane and joined the woman. It was a man, wearing a tailored suit, with a long, slightly rat like face.

"Who? Goodness, well, this is unexpected."

"What are your names." The woman asked, tone clipped but not unfriendly.

Claire raised her chin. "Claire Novak." She told them, voice pulling off far more confidence than she felt.

"Krissy Chambers." The other girl responded, matching Claire's confidence.

"Well then, I'm Agent Peggy Carter, with the SSR. And you are very much not supposed to be here, so if you could kindly explain what you're doing here I would be able to drop this gun and we could have a far more civilised conversation."

"Your call, Blondie." Krissy muttered.

Great. "Well, uh, we. It would be a lot easier to explain if we actually knew where we were." Claire stammered, all guise of confidence falling from her voice.

"I meant _lie_ , idiot." Krissy hissed.

"Well how the fuck else are we gonna find out where we are?" Claire responded.

"New York." Peggy answered slowly. "Question number two: how on Earth did you get here without knowing where you are?"

Both girls let out a sigh of relief. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Krissy told them solemnly.

"Well I'm afraid you're going to have to tell me anyway." Peggy apologised, gun dropping ever so slightly.

"We were in Illinois - I was in Illinois, dealing with this, uh, this witch. She'd been stealing people's credit cards and using magic to make herself look like them. And then Claire here burst in and knocked me down so I couldn't finish my fuckin' spell, and the bitch did some crazy magic and now we're here."

Jarvis gasped at her language and appeared personally insulted. Peggy smirked. "I can't say I entirely believe you, but I suppose it will do for now." She lowered the pistol and turned the safety back on, before tucking in into a holster on her hip. "Would you like a ride back to Illinois?"

"Hell yes." Claire sighed, letting her arms fall to her sides.

"Alright, come with me." Peggy nodded, marching off in the direction from which she'd come. "And if you don't mind me asking, whereabouts did you get your clothes?"

Claire glanced at Krissy, to find that the other girl was already looking at her with confusion.

"Target." She answered.

"Target? I don't think I've heard of it." Peggy remarked, nonchalant, as if she wasn't talking about one of the biggest clothes shops in the country. Her stomach dropped as something dawned on her.

"What year is it?" She asked.

"Nineteen forty six." Peggy told her, glancing back with a lowered brow.

Claire and Krissy groaned at the same time. "Fuck."

Jarvis shuddered. Peggy stopped walking and turned to face them.

"And what year are you from?" She questioned, taking the whole situation a whole lot better than a normal person.

"Twenty fifteen." Krissy muttered. "Fuckin' twenty fifteen."

"Ah. Well. In that case, I don't suppose taking you to Illinois would be very useful." Peggy pondered. "Jarvis. That guest house you were talking about. How many rooms does it have?"   
  
  



	2. Lesson Number Two: Phones Probably Didn't Work

The house was huge, like seriously, you could have fit an entire motel in there. Krissy felt pretty damn uncomfortable, not sure what to touch, not sure what was happening. Once they'd left the hanger it had become even more apparent that this was _not_ the twenty first century; the cars were old, older than the Winchesters', and the people on the pavement wore fedoras and brightly coloured dresses and held handbags and briefcases all bigger than Krissy's head. It was one thing looking at pictures of the past with your grandad when you were a kid, but a whole different thing to actually be there. The air smelled of cigarettes and Krissy struggled not to cough. Claire was having the same difficulty, and failing to hold in the coughs, she hid her nose in her shapeless grey hoodie until they got into the car.

Krissy didn't know exactly what to think of Claire. She had to be a hunter, otherwise she'd surely be freaking out a lot more at the thought that they'd been sent back in time, but surely if she was a hunter she'd know better than to throw herself at someone she suspected to be a monster. She was about Krissy's age, maybe a year or so younger, and a few inches taller than Krissy. She was also kinda cute, but that was beside the point. Her hair was naturally blonde, and braided on one side of her head, on the other side it was wavy and fell messily. Her face was round and her blue eyes ringed in heavy black liner and thick mascara. She gave off a punk rock, 'don't even talk to me' vibe that Krissy would never be able to even in her wildest dreams.

Peggy was interesting also. She seemed to be completely in control of the situation, even finding it something of a game. When they pulled up outside the guest house she seemed to find it amusing to watch they girls' reactions. Her clothing was smart but stylish, her hair was beautifully curled, and her make up applied carefully and perfectly.

"Make yourself at home ladies. Please, take any bedroom as your own." Jarvis told them curtly. He didn't seem to like them all that much, Krissy guessed it was because of their language.

"Jarvis, could you please collect Angie for me, I'm afraid I'll be far to busy getting these girls settled in to collect her, and I did promise her earlier that she could come and live with me."

"That was twenty minutes ago, Miss Carter."

"Yes. Yes it was, and no doubt Angie has already packed her bags and is impatiently waiting for me to show up, so if you would please." Peggy told him. "I'll escort you to the door."

Peggy grabbed the man by the crook of his arm and dragged him off, and the two girls were left alone. For a moment the silence was stifling, and then Claire pointed to the elephant in the room.

"How we gonna get out of here then? "

Krissy was about to make a rude retort, but one glance at Claire told her that she was low key freaking out, and the snark was a cracked mask over her true fear.

"I have no idea." She said instead, sighing and beginning to explore the room. Everything was freshly cleaned, not a speck of dust or dirt anywhere. Everything was grand and wooden and polished. The skirting was painted in an intricate pattern of flowers, the walls were painted recently, and all of the chairs looked antique and well looked after. Krissy guessed the place probably belonged to someone extremely rich, maybe even some kind of royalty, if this was their guest house.

Peggy came back in, smiling slightly to herself.

"This place belong to you?" Krissy asked.

"Goodness, no. An old friend." She gestured for the girls to walk towards the stairs, and continued talking when they moved. "My previous accommodation was, well, compromised. He's been trying to get me to move in for a while. Didn't like where I lived before."

She led them up the stairs, which were as grand as the rest of the house. The banisters shone, the carpet was only slightly worn underfoot, and looked to have been vaccumed recently.

"There's five bedrooms up here, make yourselves at home in any of them except the two at the far left of the hall." Peggy told them, turning to face them with a curious smile. "I suppose you're going to want some new clothes, aren't you? Well, there will be some in the closets, no doubt, but we'll go shopping tomorrow." There was a gleam in Peggy's eyes that gave Krissy the idea that she was more excited about having the two time travellers staying than she let on.

Krissy and Claire shared a look. Krissy had never been one for shopping, especially not for dresses, and _especially_ not for fifties style dresses.

"A haircut would also be in order, if you want to blend in." She frowned slightly and glanced at Claire's braids. "A shame, really. I do like your style."

Krissy looked to the grandfather clock behind Peggy. It read just past twelve. Peggy seemed to notice her looking and clasped her hands together.

"I suppose you're both quite tired. I won't keep you up, then." When neither of them moved so much as to look at each other uncomfortably, she chuckled slightly. "I'll take you to your rooms." She led them down the right, to two doors opposite each other.

The room Krissy was to stay in was quaint compared to the rest of the house. There was a double bed, a large, wooden closet spanning one wall, a full length mirror and a door that presumably lead to an en suite.

She pulled the gun and her phone from her pants and tucked them under the pillow, then peered through into the room beyond the door. She was right, it was an en suite. She found the cord and pulled the light on, the room was stark and white, small considering the size of the house. There was both a shower and a bath, and Krissy immediately pulled her shirt over her head and turned the knob on the shower. She tested the water with one arm, holy shit. It was basically perfect. Both pressure wise and temperature.

She wasted no time in pulling the rest of her clothes off and stepping under the spray. A groan slipped from her lips. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had a shower with decent water. An array of expensive looking shower gels and shampoos sat in an alcove in the wall, and she grabbed the least flowery looking gel. When opened it released a strong apple aroma that made her nose wrinkle. Okay, maybe not. The second gel smelled gently of lavender and was far less offensive to her nose, so she went with it. The bubbles were a dirty grey on her skin and she wasn't sure whether that was the soap or the accumulation of dirt from the past few days. She gave her hair the same treatment with a shampoo that smelled of rose and watched the water, definitely coloured with dirt this time, as it swirled down the drain.

The towels were softer than sin, and Claire wondered if she could steal a few for when she was back home. She wrapped her hair in one and another around her body and padded into the room. The doors on the closet were stiff, clearly nobody had expected the cupboards to need opening.

Wow. Peggy wasn't kidding. There were a _lot_ of clothes in there. She sorted through elegant dresses and fur coats and found a silk slip that would have to do until they went shopping. She really wondered how long they would be there for.

She was just pulling it over her head when a small knock came on the door.

"Come in." She said, smoothing down the bottom of the dress. It reached her mid thigh and showed a lot more cleavage than she would have liked (or expected, considering the year). She turned just as the door opened and Claire shuffled in, wearing pastel pink, silk pyjamas with overly squared shoulders, and with no eye make up on. She'd even taken the braids from her hair. She looked very awkward and slightly scared. Krissy supposed she must look similar.

"Uh, hey." Claire mumbled, fisting her hands in her shirt as if wishing she was still wearing her hoodie.

"Hi." Krissy responded. "Wanna shut the door and sit down?"

As Claire shut the door, Krissy sat on the bed, head against the headboard, knees against her chest. Claire sat down beside her, legs hanging off the bed. She tilted her head to look at Krissy, nerves evident in her eyes.

"So, you wanna talk about how the hell we get back to the future?" Krissy asked, nudging Claire with her foot in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"Well first we'll need a DeLorean and a lot of luck." Claire smirked crookedly. Krissy grinned in return.

"Well I think we'll be waiting a while for the DeLorean." She mused. "I was thinking we find the nearest occult library."

"That could work too." Claire agreed. Krissy pulled her phone out from under the pillow she'd hidden it, hand brushing against the cool metal of the gun as she did, reassuring her that she wasn't completely helpless.

"Lets see if Google still works." She murmured, turning the device on. The screen turned on for a quarter of a second before a shrill zapping sound came from it and a web of cracks snaked across the screen, smoke billowing from them. "Shit." She cursed, throwing the device down onto the bed when it began to burn her hand. She cradled the injured hand against her chest and rushed to the bathroom to grab a wet towel that she then wrapped around the burning device. She shoved the whole thing in the bathtub just as the towel began to steam and turned the taps onto full. When the water soaked into the towel it immediately evaporated into a cloud of near translucent white steam. Once the towel was submerged it began to release bubbles, as if the phone was boiling the water. Claire came to join her and they both watched until the bubbling subsided.

"Shit." Claire agreed.


End file.
